Eternal Winds (Dezel)
by FonicEdge21
Summary: "What are you doing here?" Her voice was even despite the tears pooling at the corners of her eyes. He grinned, "Did you think something like dying could keep me away?" WARNING: Massive Spoilers! Recommended for those who have beaten the game.
1. Chapter 1

Eternal Winds

Warning: Contains mid-game spoilers.

*I don't own Tales of Zestiria or any of it's characters, though if I did, Dezel wouldn't have been killed off. (OOPS! Spoiled it for those who missed the warning.)

"Keep on keepin' on!"

"Yeah!" Rose called up to Dezel, tears in her eyes, as he rose into the golden light, and she sank back down to the world that had taken so much from him.

It seemed too cruel of an end, finding the truth about his past, meeting the target of his hatred, just to find out he caused the death of his best friend. His only consolation was that he'd been able to tell Rose the truth after he sacrificed himself to save her, even if it was the partial truth, though neither knew.

Rose's last sight before she was engulfed in the blinding light was of Dezel, smiling broader than ever before. His eyes shone bright green once again, as they had before his troubles claimed his lot in life. Then everything went white.

Dezel felt his physical form leave him, along with the whispering of the winds. He panicked at first, even with his sight restored, he felt blind without the only thing he had to call a friend in those lonely years, before Rose could even acknowledge his presence.

Closing his eyes, Dezel resigned himself to thinking oblivion could be welcome rest from all his troubles.

But part of his consciousness still felt restless. The logical side argued that his job was done, that he could rest with nothing else to fight for. But the emotional side of the wind seraph broke its usual silence, arguing that he _did_ have something to fight for, even if he wasn't aware of what it was yet.

Suddenly, the stark white that had filled every inch of his mind grew emerald-tinted. The warring sides of Dezel became quiet, as a comforting and oddly familiar presence enveloped him. Soaking in the bliss the aura provided, Dezel could hear a voice faintly say, "Dezel…"

Dezel's newly restored eyes widened. "That voice… I know that voice." The voice conjured memories, sharp and colorful, of blue skies, green fields, and a promise… "Lafarga!"

In front of him, a form shimmered into existence, giving off a blinding glow. As the light subsided to slightly blinding again, sure enough, grinning back at him was his old friend.

Awestruck and overjoyed, Dezel was speechless as his old friend and beloved mentor stepped forward looking none the worse being dead for a few years. "What took you so long?" he crossed his arms and scowled.

But seeing Dezel's shock, the scowl disappeared as fast as it had appeared, replaced by his trademark broad grin. "It's good to you, ya ill wind," he chuckled.

Dezel's emotions whirled inside of him like a raging vortex. "I-I'm so sorry!" his gazed turned downward sorrowfully. "It was all my fault, all of it. I killed you!"

Lafarga placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and gave Dezel a kind smile. "Hey, none of that is true, all that vile seraph said was a load of hellion dung. Yes, you played a part in it, but I chose my path, and you chose to right your mistakes. That's all that matters."

Dezel suddenly glanced up. "How did you know that? Am I dead too?"

"I've been watching you ever since you started accompanying Rose again. And no, you're not dead. Neither am I, for that matter. Look," he gestured around them.

Their surroundings suddenly changed. Instead of the piercing white-green light, the expertly-hewn stone walls of Pendrago stood around them. A beautiful midnight sky greeted them, not a single cloud broke the view. They stood in front of the central fountain, and standing next to them was… "Rose!"

She stood with her hands clenched to her chest, eyes downcast and hidden underneath red bangs. "Oh Dezel, why didn't you tell me? I was such a jerk, I… I'm sorry I didn't talk to you more often, but… Why? Damn you!" she started to sob.

"Rose, I-" he tried to put a hand on her shoulder, Only to have it pass through her. "What the-?"

"She can't hear you, nor can she feel or see you," Lafarga somberly explained.

"So I am dead?!"

"No, I told you. Not dead. Simply put, you are the purest form of a wind spirit." He turned and gestured for him to follow. "Come on, I'll explain more."

Unwilling to leave Rose again, but utterly confused, Dezel had no choice but to follow, as Lafarga led the way.

They passed the inn, where Sorey sat dejectedly underneath the awning, past Mikleo and Edna in the Eastern street. Lailah could been seen on the central rampart, visible only as a silhouette against a backdrop of the moonlit skies.

They came to a stop in front of the Shrine Church, where Zaveid leaned against a pillar, twirling Dezel's hat. Dezel growled, and was about to demand his hat back, when he remembered he couldn't see him, making him stop short.

"So why can't they see me, and why aren't we dead?" Dezel demanded.

Lafarga sighed. "Straight to the point huh? Well, _you_ should have died, but I intervened." He started to idly tap the crest on his glove. "You see, there is a way for a seraph to achieve a form of immortality, though very few are any bit capable of it. Now, normally a seraph would have to figure that out at his or her time of death, but I can see you're quite capable, just under informed."

Giving up on the crest, Lafarga began materializing small gusts of winds, chilling the oblivious and half-naked Zaveid. Chuckling, he explained, "Once he figures out how to remain in the world, a seraph can manipulate the physical world again. But knowing you, you want to return to the world indefinitely and wholly, am I right?"

Dezel nodded.

"Then you've got your work cut out for you, I'm afraid to say, as that's the hardest afterlife achievement for a seraph," Lafarga said.

Dezel stepped forward , determination written on his face. "Tell me, how?"

His mentor looked him in the eye, "First, you'll have to figure out the secret to afterlife consciousness on your own. Right now, you're existing solely on the life force I'm generating for you, but I can't do it forever. The strain will wear me out in about a week, give or take a day, hopefully enough time for you to figure it out."

"I'll have it figured out before that," Dezel stated confidently. "Now, where do we start?"

Lafarga turned and laughed as he walked. "You haven't changed a bit. Well, I suppose you have gotten better at lighting up a room." He waited for Dezel to catch up as they walked through the eastern quarter, back to the fountain. "You'll have to travel with your friends to discover your reason for existing, which can't be just for the sake of existing by the way. After that, retaining existence is merely a matter of willpower, which you have no shortage of, you stubborn mule," he smiled.

Dezel grinned ruthlessly back. "Wonder where I got that from?" he retorted. "Anyways, how is travelling with those nutballs gonna help me find a reason?" Though he'd never admit it, he was secretly delighted to be able to travel with his companions again.

"I'm certain you'll figure it out. Hell, it's practically under your nose," he answered cryptically, as they entered the inn.

Dezel groaned. "You never could give a straight answer."

The next morning, Dezel woke from his spot near Rose's bed. He didn't know why he had continued the habit. He couldn't protect her like when he had his physical form, but it gave him a sense of relief, as well as another, warmer emotion. He'd felt this particular emotion before, in a time long forgotten. He vaguely remembered it was also with Rose. The unnamed emotion continued to scorch his insides the longer he thought about Rose.

Shaking his head to focus, Dezel decided to analyze the emotion later. For now, he had to concentrate on finding his reason for existence.

Lafarga also stirred from his slumber, leaning against the far wall. He grinned broadly at Dezel, as if he knew what was going through his head. "Always wondered why you had a soft spot for her."

"Shut up," Dezel growled and made his way to the door out of their room. "You're the one who said to watch over her like a hawk. Pretty sure you threatened to feed me to a drake newt if I didn't."

His mentor chuckled. "The threat worked didn't it?" He got up and exited the room with Dezel behind him.

Lafarga stopped in the middle of the inn hallway. "Your friends are planning on investigating the Basin again." He fixed him with a pointed look, "Like the original plan was."

Dezel pushed past him saying, "Yeah, yeah."

They went outside, where the other's had already gathered in front of the fountain. Chatting amongst themselves, no one noticed Dezel and Lafarga, as they waited for Sorey and Rose to finally join them.

After a long discussion with unheard input from Dezel, the party decided to investigate Heldalf, for Dezel's sake, if for nothing else.

Though he'd never admit it, Dezel was genuinely touched, and had to turn away when Rose began to break down. Laughing at her impression of him (on the inside, of course), he whispered to himself, "Hold on Rose, I'll be back to you soon. I promise."

It could have been his imagination, but Rose seemed to hear his silent vow, but Dezel dismissed the possibility.

Lafarga took him aside as the party started for the gates. "We'll catch up with them later. I forgot to tell you, but there's one other thing we need to do before you can have exert willful consciousness."

Dezel took a last gaze after Rose, realizing that the warm, unnamed emotion was fading. In it's wake, a suffocating chill brewed inside him. The sudden storm of emotions set him on edge, making it hard to focus. "What?"

Lafarga gave him a knowing look, "We have to find Sylph, the Primal Wind Spirit. You need to gain her approval in order to form a physical body again."

"I don't suppose you know where to find her?" Dezel asked.

"She's a Primal Wind Spirit. She never stays in the same place for than a minute at a time, but I have an idea of where she'll be tomorrow. Which gives us enough time to get there."

"Where are we going?" he asked suspiciously. He didn't like the light in Lafarga's eyes.

Author's note: Hi guys, FonicEdge21 here. I've never written any fanfics before, so this is a first for me. Hope ya'll like it. Reviews and comments are totally welcome, it's the only way writers get better. Thanks.

-FonicEdge21


	2. Chapter 2

Eternal Winds

Warning: Contains mid-game spoilers.

*I don't own Tales of Zestiria or any of it's characters, though if I did, Dezel wouldn't have been killed off.

Rose felt torn-up.

Part of her accepted Dezel's death, but the other half couldn't shake the feeling that she would see him again. She hadn't told anyone her doubts, but her gut-feelings were never wrong.

Personal reasons aside, the Dezel-shaped hole was patched, but could never be completely filled by Zaveid. Though he tried his hardest, Zaveid didn't have the same edge Dezel brought to the party. He was their silent conviction to keep pushing on, to keep fighting through the chaos.

They were camped inside the Tintagel Ruins, having found no sign of Heldalf in the Basin. Slightly deterred by the long trek, the party nevertheless decided to search a mysterious malevolent source Zaveid had felt by Aifred's Hunting Grounds.

Rose had suggested that they take a rest in the ruins, but now she regretted it. The place reminded her of Dezel, everywhere she looked.

After Symmone's attack, memories long forgotten, now flowed freely back to her. Memories of a grinning, green-eyed seraph who would play with her, laugh with her, comfort her, and grow with her.

Dezel could have been her best friend, and she'd forgotten him. Treating him like a stranger, cold and unfamiliar.

Trying to sleep, she tossed and turned for what seemed to be the millionth time on the stone beds that the Scattered Bones had so often had to sleep on before. Giving up on sleep for the moment, Rose got up and quietly stalked into the main chamber of the ruins.

The rooms had been divided between the Men and Women of the party. She knew that as she tiptoed past the boys' room, the only light sleeper present was Mikleo. Apparently, Edna wasn't above pranking poor Meebo even in the dead of night. The terrified seraph had developed a severe case of fear-induced insomnia, to the point where he was almost as light a sleeper as Dezel was… 'Damn it, something else to remind me of him,' she thought and sighed to herself.

Rose supposed there was no way around it, she missed Dezel. She paced around the huge chamber, looking for any sign of where Dezel rested, when he lived with the SparrowFeathers in the Ruins. Taking a glance around, she noticed something familiar carved in a doorway leading to another room.

The symbol from Dezel's glove was roughly etched into a hall threshold. The floor of the hall had collapsed prior to their first arrival. Thus, a whole section of the ruins had been separated by a sizeable gap between.

Neither Rose nor any of the other Scattered Bones had bothered to investigate the room beyond. She did so now, leaping acrobatically over the gap. 'Piece of cake,' she told herself, 'Nothing to it.'

She lit a small candle and continued along the dark corridor, the walls looking pretty much the same as the rest of the ruins. But she noticed light spilling from around the far end of the hall. Curious, she turned the corner, arriving at a spectacular sight.

The light was coming from a small bronze brazier that sat in the middle of a small triangular chamber. The coals crackling cheerfully in the brazier seemed to be feeding off the moonlight spilling on them from a cut in the ceiling. Various items were piled on a crate near a small bed pushed into the far corner. In the corner closest to her stood an iron hatstand.

Coming closer, she suddenly knew without a doubt who lived in the room. A single pendulum wrapped around a familiar-looking hat that hung from the stand.

She rushed forward and took the hat, "Oh Dezel…" Rose cradled the hat. "This must have been your spare, you always had a backup for everything." She smiled sadly to herself, then noticed something behind the hatstand.

Nudging the stand aside, she found a wonderous mural carved into the wall. Highly detailed, she could tell the painstaking care the carver had taken. The figure in the mural vaguely resembled Dezel, with the same attire and hat, but with longer hair, and a kind smile that shone in his bright eyes.

Beneath the breathtaking mural, words were etched. Passing her candle over the words, Rose read aloud, "I won't fail again, Lafarga. I'll protect her. I swear."

Rose's eyes widened. Dezel had sworn to avenge his friend… Yet he also vowed to protect her, not just to use her for his vengeance, but why?

Puzzled by the revelation, Rose continued to examine the room, eager for more remnants of Dezel.

Stopping at the crate, she found a dark-green rucksack on top. Putting on Dezel's spare hat to free her hands, Rose dug through the bag's contents. Dumping them on the bed, she found an assortment of dried herbs in a small satchel, a rusty knife, a few glittering stones, and a well-worn journal with a simple brown leather spine and cover. Tucked into a page like a bookmark, was a pressed flower; a red rose.

Dezel wasn't amused. At all.

He and Lafarga had begun the long trek to Zaphgott Moor, where Lafarga was "fairly certain" Sylph would be. Which would have been fine, had not the million-and-one hellions decided to make his life infinitely harder.

They had just crossed from the Great Camelot Bridge into the vast desert-like Moor, when they spotted a giant elephant hellion. Up till then, hellions had been few and far inbetween. Still, they avoided them as much as possible.

Thinking hellions wouldn't be able to harm or even see him, he walked on… only to to be struck by the beast's giant trunk. Caught by surprise, Dezel was flung into the sand.

"Ungh," he groaned, and leapt back to his feet. "Oh sure. _THEY_ can see us," he growled and reached for his pendulum. Then remembered he was just a spirit, as the elephant lashed out again.

Jumping back, Dezel was unsure what to do, when Lafarga unleashed a barrage of ruthlessly precise whip strikes with what appeared to be a pendulum of shimmering air. "Concentrate Dezel! You can materialize a spirit pendulum still," he called out.

Focusing, Dezel formed a barbed pendulum of savage winds. He laughed harshly, "You're through!" He struck forward, lashing the elephant's leg from under it. Forming another pendulum, Dezel began mercilessly slashing the beast, "Brutality Drive!"

The unfortunate hellion exploded in a burst of light, instead of just being driven off or purified by sanctification.

Panting, Dezel took a moment to catch his breath. Realizing that he'd just found a way to kill hellions, he was surprised to find it gave him no satisfaction, or any other emotion. In fact, it left him feeling hollow, like a windless void.

Lafarga stood a few feet away, gauging his reaction. Dezel couldn't tell if he was pleased or not. "We should keep moving. Avoid the hellions when you can," he said and turned to continue..

After that, they tried to avoid the hellions, who seemed to decide that making Dezel's life miserable was priority number one.

Dezel used to think he only had two reasons for living. The first was ridding the world of hellions, specifically the one he believed responsible for killing Lafarga, but now that had lost it's luster. The second… he forgot shortly after losing his sight. He had sworn to watch over Rose and protect those close to her, which now included Sorey and his other seraph friends.

What was his reason for existing? Dezel wondered. He decided the second reason would suffice, but he felt certain there had to be more to it. He would have to figure the rest later. First, he had to convince a flighty Primal Spirit that he was worthy of life.

As they were approaching Lohgrin, Lafarga took a sharp right, going up a steep path that led to a cliff facing the ruined tower.

A storm had suddenly brewed about a minute before they arrived at the edge of the cliff. Dezel closed his eyes. The winds had been reluctant to tell him anything after gaining his sight back, but even he could feel that this was no natural storm.

Heavy storm clouds loomed overhead, crackling with unreleased lightning and rain. Savage winds whirled about. Like a brood of vipers, they swirled, hissing shearing anything unlucky enough to be caught in the maelstrom's maw.

Dezel shuddered involuntarily at the sheer devastation the storm had the potential for. He had seen plenty of bad storms before, but this one radiated malevolence, almost like… "A hellion!"

Lafarga nodded, looking quite amused by his reaction. "An Aeoroboros-class hellion. Rather nasty storm-bringer."

Dezel stared up at the colossus. "Is that Sylph?"

A voice rang out from behind them. "My, my. Am I really so ugly that you confuse me with _THAT?"_

Author's note: Hey guys, FonicEdge21 again. Thank you so much for your guys' feedback, it really helps. Remember to hit those fav and follow buttons. And don't be shy, pm me or just leave a review, I really do care about what you guys think. Thanks, I'll keep updating chapters!

-FonicEdge21


	3. Chapter 3

Eternal Winds

Warning: Contains mid-game spoilers.

*I don't own Tales of Zestiria or any of it's characters.

Tired.

If there was a single word to summarize how Rose felt, it would be tired. Tired of chasing down a man/hellion/lion thing who didn't seem to know what a razor was. She was tired of being tossed around and unconscious for the majority of the fights. Tired of camping on rocky ground, while Lailah tended to her wounds. Just. Tired.

In spite of her exhaustion and condition, she had convinced the others that they should continue on the journey. They agreed, on the condition Rose rest one night.

They were camped in a natural stone niche in front of the Earth Shrine. After the fierce battle with Heldalf, Rose had been left with a broken rib and a few minor scratches, forcing her to stay in her tent while she rested. Lailah had set the rib as best she could, and Mikleo administered a small dose of miraculous Elixir, promising healing within two days at most.

Rose sighed. Being bedridden sucked. Being bedridden while said bed was just a sleeping bag lying on rocks determined to poke her to death sucked even more.

After an hour of unsuccessful sleep, Rose decided to start reading Dezel's journal.

Reaching for the green bag sitting on the small camping stool by her sleeping bag, her rib screamed in protest. Ignoring the pain, she dug through it until she found the worn brown leather book.

When she opened it, a nostalgic feeling spread over her, as if Dezel was standing next to her again. Starting at the first page, she was shocked at how neat the blind wind seraph's handwriting was.

She spent hours reading Dezel's journal, completely enveloped with his story.

It described his life as a brash young wind seraph, adventuring with Lafarga, finding the Windriders.

As she read, Rose was amazed at how much he had written about what he felt. She had always figured Dezel never cared much about anything. In truth, he seemed to care a great deal, to the point where Rose felt a sudden surge of affection for her friend.

As she came closer to the last page written in, Rose could tell where events were leading. Dezel had always been a great storyteller, when she would badger him into telling around the campfire, but his story-writing was even more captivating.

She cried for Dezel, as he wrote about his conflicting emotions concerning the Windriders' future, as Brad broke the news of Rolance's patronship offer.

Rose felt a cold foreboding grip her heart. It was one thing to hear Dezel tell her what happened, it was another to see how events led to the death of his old friend.

Turning to the page with the pressed rose, the final entry, Rose read the last line aloud. "I can't lose them. I can't lose _HER_."

With a shock, she realized Dezel was talking about her. Rose suddenly felt sick, and wondered if she'd caused him to go to such lengths, caused the events that would cost him his sight and happiness.

She shut the book and extinguished the small candle she'd been reading with. Tired and confused, Rose sank gratefully into a dreamless sleep.

Over the years, Dezel had developed a finely-tuned sense of deciding which threats took priority. It was a survival skill developed from years of experience.

But deciding which was more dangerous, a giant storm hellion or an offended Primal Lord of the Wind, _THAT_ was quite a toss-up.

She was average height, wearing a green dress that seemed woven from the wind itself. With her hair down, pure white as a cloud, and wearing a dazzling smile, she didn't appear dangerous.

But Dezel could sense the power she radiated. Like just before a storm hits, the air was charged with ozone. He could feel the wind surrounding her, coiling like a giant snake, ready to snap at anyone who would threaten it's charge.

Lafarga turned to face her. "Ah, Sylph. Look at you, as sleek and lovely as a cool breeze in a valley," he said while bowing.

Her smile widened. "Lafarga, you old charmer. You know just what to say to a woman," she said as if they were old friends. Prim and proper, her manners were flawless, but that only added to Dezel's suspicions that she was much more dangerous that she would have you believe.

Dezel cleared his throat, and Sylph's attention slid back to him. "And you must be Dezel. Lafarga has told me so much about you," she greeted him breezily.

At Dezel's puzzled look, Lafarga laughed and explained, "I met Sylph a while back when I was watching over you." His eyes gleamed, as if he suddenly had a great idea. "I don't think you could ask for a better first impression opportunity, eh?" he indicated the storm hellion.

Sylph seemed to catch onto his thinking. "Pardon me gents," she strode forward to the edge of the cliff.

The Aeoroboros had caught onto their presence a while ago, and was drifting lazily towards him as if it had all the time in the world. If a storm could sneer, that's what it looked like.

Dezel tensed, forming his spirit pendulums. As the giant lumbered towards them, he didn't like their odds of winning against the hellion.

It turned out he wouldn't need the weapons.

Sylph walked off the edge of the cliff, striding atop hundreds of feet of empty air. Walking slowly, as if a lady on her way to a dinner party, she spoke two words softly, "Storm Rend."

In a blink, a pure-white bolt of lightning, shining like a jagged sword, dropped, making the hairs on the back of Dezel's neck stand on end. Piercing the giant, the storm was quite literally rend by the arte. A second after the bolt hit, rumble of artillery-loud thunder rolled across the Moor.

The hellion rumbled once, then promptly exploded in a rainbow array of color.

Dezel was left, shellshocked, for lack of a better word, as Sylph walked back to the cliff.

Breezy smile back again, she asked as if nothing had happened, "So, where were we?"

Author's note: Hey guys. I know this chapter came a little fast, but it felt natural to publish this right away, but tell me what you think! Once again, I thank you for all the feedback, and remind you, I truly do appreciate all reviews and pms. Don't forget to hit those fav and follow buttons! Thanks.

-FonicEdge21


	4. Chapter 4

Eternal Winds

Warning: Contains mid-game spoilers.

*I don't own Tales of Zestiria or any of it's characters.

Rose had seen some pretty strange things since travelling with Sorey. Between Dog Seraphs and hellions with snakes for feet, it was a wonder her mind hadn't simply shut down from the sheer craziness that had become her world.

But she was still surprised when a huge storm appeared in the middle of the Zaph Gott Moor. Supposedly, the desert-like moor hadn't seen rains since before the Era of Chaos. Yet, there it was, a huge, swirling mass of thundering fury.

The strangeness continued, when a massive silverbolt dropped from the heavens, cleaving the storm in two. Then a rumble of artillery-loud thunder roared across the dry plains, making Rose's hair stand on end, but no rains fell. The Moor, it seemed, was destined to remain thirsty, as all that remained of the storm was a bright rainbow.

Rose looked to Sorey, who looked to Lailah, who simply started singing a weird song about herself and hellion species and classifications.

The Lady of the Lake had tipped off the party to search for Mayvin, who she hinted would hold the answers to their questions at Lohgrin.

The weather spectacle was welcome respite, but they all recovered from the roar of the thunder, and continued their trek across Zaph Gott.

A few hours later-days, it seemed to Rose-the party unanimously elected to take a break, taking advantage of the natural oasis to set up camp, as the sun burned insistently overhead.

While Sorey, Mikleo, and Zavied went about clearing the hellions in the vicinity; Rose, Lailah, and Edna pitched the small tents they carried. With the task done, Rose retired to her tent, since Edna was today's designated cook, and Lailah was already finished with the small chores.

Upon entering the small canvas tent, she sighed and sat down at her small collapsible desk. It was a masterpiece of carpentry and metalworking, picked up from a lovely shop in Pendrago, and was incredibly useful, given her long and frequent trips, lightweight and being able to fold and separate into two pieces.

Reaching for her pack, Rose was hit with slight flare of pain from her rib. Grimacing, she was surprised; the wound had healed, but every now and then the dull ache would come back, tormenting her like a phantom.

After the pain subsided, she fished out Dezel's journal from her pack and laid the worn book on the smooth cedarwood of her desk. Since finishing it, Rose had taken to writing in the leftover blank pages and rereading the entries he had already written.

Though he was no chatterbox around others, Dezel didn't seem to mind writing his thoughts about the days, watching over Rose and the Windriders. She read an entry aloud, giggling, "Rose drew on everyone's armor again. Being an artist's fine and all, but it'll take me all night to wash before anyone notices."

Every time she would read about the Dezel from the old days, she could imagine how kind and protective he was. With each word she read, her mental image of the wind seraph grew sharper and more colorful, not at all dulled or frayed by death, to the point where it seemed he was standing next to her, her silent guardian again.

"Rose, Edna's food's done!" Lailah poked her head in the tent. "Oh! What's that?" she pointed to the journal.

Rose held up the book as the Prime Lord entered the tent and sat on one of the small chairs. "Dezel's journal. Found it back in the Ruins. He's quite the writer on paper." She handed it to Lailah.

"Oh my, he's got better handwriting than me!" she whined, flipping through the pages of neat and clear handwriting, with broad strokes and graceful flourishes.

"Right? Anyway, Dezel from back then sounds so much nicer. It's a shock seeing how he was after everything…"

Lailah continued to flip through the worn journal. "I think Dezel has always been kind, he just didn't show it as much as before, or as much as he'd have liked to," she said quietly. "He seemed quite attached to you, before and after," she noted, looking directly at Rose. "What did you think of Dezel?" Lailah asked innocently.

At this Rose squirmed uncomfortably. She had been wrestling with the same question, ever since the dreams started.

After she had first finished Dezel's journal, Rose began to have dreams about Dezel. They were dreams of adventures shared, never having really happened, but felt totally real. The dreams weren't unpleasant. In fact, Rose sometimes would find herself longing for Dezel's company so much, that she looked forward to sleeping just to see him in her dreamscape.

That all changed one night.

In this particular dream, Dezel and Rose were relaxing with the Sparrowfeathers after another successful job, lodging in the Tintagel Ruins again. Cheering and laughing, the Sparrowfeathers began to sway to a cheerful tune being played by Equile, who knew his way around a flute, weaving a sweet, infectious tempo in the air.

The partygoers began to find partners to dance with, and Dezel claimed her hand in a flash. He led her to the center of the room. No one seemed to think it strange, maybe they could see him she wondered absently. Dezel was a surprisingly splendid dancer, as he twirled her across the room in an old-fashioned way that still worked with the music.

They could have been dancing forever, when Dezel suddenly leaned down to her level, swaying with Equile's tune. His eyes shone bright green back at her, a piercing emerald-green that matched her favorite color. the sheer intensity of his gaze holding her in place like a doldrum. Whispering softly, Dezel said the only words strong enough to paralyze her, "I live and love only for _you_ ," and kissed her, lips swift and unrelenting as a gale.

She awoke in shock. His lips, imaginary as they were, had left breathless and feverishly warm.

From then on, Rose had seen him in a whole different light. Now every thought of Dezel brought a warm giddy feeling, not unlike what Dezel experienced.

Though not unpleasant, she was scared of how conflicting the emotions within her brewed, and how they would make her react, if indeed they ever met again.

Lailah seemed to pick up on her embarrassment, and made the connection. "You fell in love with him, didn't you?" she nearly squealed. "Since when? How? Did he know? What about-"

Rose clamped a hand over Lailah's mouth. "Shh! He didn't know. Heck, I didn't even know till a while ago. I'm not sure how he felt about me though," she said with a tinge of sadness, as she released Lailah.

She sputtered and coughed a few times, catching her breath. But inside, she silently cheered. For a while now, she had observed the whole Rose-Dezel dynamic, and while Edna would make the occasional offhand comment to embarrass the both of them, she felt she was the only one who truly saw the feelings Dezel had for Rose.

Of course, it helped that the Prime Lord could sense snippets of their sub-lord's thoughts.

"It's not a moot point, you know right?" she asked her gently.

"I can't help but think he's still alive, somehow," Rose admitted. "It's like I can still feel a part of him around." She absently reached for the spare hat she had found.

Lailah also had such suspicions. She had heard rumors of extremely strong-willed seraphs refusing to die, pushing away the folds of oblivion, or the call of the stars, and remaining with the living. "I think so too. As long as you hold onto, and remember your feelings for him, something good will come of it. I'm sure of it," Lailah said comfortingly.

Rose sighed. "I hope you're right. If we ever meet again, I'm just as likely to punch him for making me care, as hugging the life out of him." She wiped away some tears she hadn't even been aware of. "But I got a good feeling about this," she smiled.

"Another famous 'gut-feeling?'" Lailah jabbed playfully.

Rose acknowledged the jibe with a chuckle. "When have they ever been wrong?"

Dezel was not a seraph to be intimidated easily. But after watching a Primal Wind Lord destroy a hellion of devastating potential in the blink of an eye, it was hard not to flinch when she turned her attention back to him and Lafarga.

As she walked back from the edge of the cliff, Dezel examined her more closely. Age was always hard to tell with seraphs, and seemed to be true for Primal spirits too. With soft, petite, almost elfin features, she was strikingly beautiful, but could have been anywhere from middle-aged to as old as time itself.

Lafarga seemed to be enjoying his shock just a little too much. He covered his mouth with a gloved hand, but Dezel could still hear the grin in his voice as he said; "Well then, I do believe introductions are done. Shall we?"

Sylph simply waved her hand, and three chairs and an ornate table appeared, complete with a regal-looking teapot and matching cups. Graceful as ever, she sat down at the head of the table, and poured herself some of the aromatic tea. She offered some to Dezel and Lafarga as they sat down in the surprisingly comfortable chairs, saying, "You simply must try some. It's my own special blend, I call it 'The Meadow's Blossom.'' She poured two other cups. "I know just a bit melodramatic, but you'll understand the name in a second," she said with a playful glint in her eye.

Lafarga accepted gratefully. Dezel accepted his cup, more out of feeling it would be rude otherwise. He'd never been one for drinking tea, but the delicious scents wafting up from the dainty teacup were making it hard to refuse the smooth green tea.

Lafarga drank deeply, and Dezel followed suit. As he drank, his tongue was greeted with what could only be described as a symphony of tastes and flavors, conjuring visions of grassy fields and sunny skies along with a slight feeling of nostalgia.

The look on his face must have been priceless, since Lafarga started laughing outright. "So Sylph," he turned to her. "I've told you about Dezel, but I think you should hear his whole story from himself, before you make your, um… decision."

Sylph turned to him expectantly. Dezel cleared his throat and reached for his hat out of habit, only to remember he didn't have it as his fingers ran through his hair awkwardly. "It's a long story," he warned.

Sylph giggled and poured herself more tea. "Oh Dezel, when you're as old as I am, you realize you've got nothing but time."

Sylph was a good listener. As he told his story, Dezel was surprised how easily flowed, enveloping Sylph and Lafarga in his tales. He told of his early years, meeting Lafarga, adventuring with the Windriders. He told them of the dark events leading to his mentor's death, his pursuit of vengeance, and eventually his adventures with Rose and Sorey's party.

As he came closer to his final moments, he found difficulty grasping the words for his sacrifice. "After that… everything went white… I-"

"That's enough," Lafarga broke in with a firm voice. He glanced back to Sylph. "So?"

The Primal Wind Lord seemed deep in thought, tapping a finger on her teacup. Dezel sat uncomfortably as her piercing gaze turned towards him. "So… you used this, Rose to exact your revenge…" Dezel winced but nodded at the words. "But you chose to sacrifice yourself to save her?"

Dezel's gaze turned downward with shame. "I'd been so consumed by my need for revenge, I used her like a tool. But I couldn't leave her to die, or turn into a hellion." He looked back up with steel in his eyes, "I couldn't do that to her."

The answer seemed to impress her. "Alright Dezel. Let's talk business."

Author's note: Hi guys! I'm not dead! Sorry for the long wait, I took a short break for the holidays, then I got sick when school started again, but I'm back now! I promise to post on a more frequent schedule from now on. As always, don't forget to hit those fav and follow buttons, and don't be afraid to review or pm me. Thanks! -FonicEdge21


	5. Chapter 5

Eternal Winds

Warning: Contains mid-game spoilers.

*I don't own Tales of Zestiria or any of it's characters.

"As you can obviously tell," Sylph gestured to where the storm hellion had been, "Primal Spirits such as I hold incredible power over our respective elements." Her smile turned rueful. "But in exchange for that power, each of us is bound in an oath of sorts, to use such power to purify malevolence tied to our elements; powerful hellions and malevolent beings of great evil."

Dezel shifted uncomfortably. He had a feeling he knew where this was going, and who would end up with the short straw. "So where do I fit into all of this?" he practically growled.

Sylph raised her hands in a placating gesture. "Patience, I'm getting there," she chastised. "As you probably already know, it's a big world out there, lot's of room for a hellion to run and hide eh? Not to mention plenty of Harry Hardlucks to embed their consciousness into." She sighed.

Lafarga remained uncharacteristically silent throughout the exchange, but seemed to silently urge Dezel to hear the Primal Spirit out.

Sylph dabbed at her mouth daintily with a napkin Dezel hadn't noticed before, he didn't think it had even existed before. "It's a hard job," she continued, "Even as a Primal Wind Lord of the Wind, I can't be everywhere at once." She laced her fingers, and seemed close to the catch. "Faced with this problem, all four of us Primal Spirits choose two Elemental Tribunes, vessels of our purifying power."

'Aha!' Dezel thought to himself, 'So the penny drops.' He chuckled mirthlessly. "And you want me to hunt down hellions for you, am I right?"

Sylph's smile remained patient. "As I understand, you're in no position to refuse, as without my blessing as a scion of my power, you'll never have a physical form again." Her voice tinged with smugness.

Dezel felt his voice catch, throat tight as a noose, and a scathing protest died in it. For all her manners, Sylph proved to be ruthlessly shrewd, a hidden intelligence Dezel may have underestimated. "Alright," he said wearily, resigned. "Where do I start?"

Having proven point, Sylph resumed her explanation. "Now, since you're still searching for your reason of existence, I'll only take a bit of your limited time, and give you a bit of an entrance exam, so to speak." The playful glint returned.

"Oh, I see," Lafarga seemed to know where this was going, which only unnerved Dezel even more. " _THAT_ problem."

"What problem?" he asked, a sinking feeling settling in his gut.

Sylph waved her hand dismissively. "Your partner will explain the details on the way, she replied.

Dezel frowned in confusion. "Partner?"

"Well you didn't think you'd be the only Tribune now, did ya?" a voice rang out behind them.

Dezel whirled to see a young woman had snuck up behind them.

A little under average height, she was dressed in a light-green blouse with white sleeves, a bandolier of throwing knives slung across. She wore sleek tan hunting trousers, held up by a weapons belt with a long dagger hanging from it in a jeweled scabbard, and dark-brown riding boots with vertical buckles.

With a finger, she brushed a lock of her short, dark-green hair out of a gold-brown eye and behind her ear, winking. "Aris Orlin, nice to meet ya."

###

"Rnngh!" Rose practically roared as she rammed her knives through the last hellion that stood in her way. Panting, she sank to the floor, and closed her eyes exhausted.

Hearing footsteps behind her, Rose turned to face who was approaching… only to be jabbed hard in the eye. "OWW!" she opened her good eye and glared up at an expressionless Edna.

"Oops," she shrugged unremorsefully. "I only meant to wake you. Sorey wanted you to quit napping and come with me to scout ahead outside, while he and Meebo and the others finish looking around the ruins." Edna closed her umbrella and offered it to Rose as a hand up.

Rose ignored it, and stood up by herself. Still blinking angrily, she asked, "Why are you coming? Why not Lailah or somebody else?" Her suspicions raised as they exited the ruins into Westron Bolt Gorge They had been on a search for the remaining Iris Gems, since Mayvin advised the party to. Now only one lead remained.

"Lailah originally was supposed to come," Edna explained as she opened her umbrella against the bright sunlight that flooded their vision. "But there was no way I was going to sit through another ruin lecture, so I 'convinced' Lailah it would be better if I talked to you about your, ahem, feelings for a _certain_ wind seraph," she said with a smug smile.

Rose whirled to look at her, shocked that her secret had been discovered so soon already.

At her look, Edna's smile widened. "Don't worry, Lailah didn't blab; I just happened to be not as dense as the others. I knew about Dezel, but you confirmed it just now. Heads up."

A group of hellions were approaching their small path. Rose drew her knives and set to work driving off the malevolent creatures. She leapt into the fray like a whirlwind of serrated steel. Combat was always a welcome anger management.

Cutting through the ranks, she launched into the air, throwing five mana-infused daggers and unleashed a fiery downward mid-air strike, "Rising Phoenix!"

After the flames died down, there were no hellions in sight on the wind-swept pathways. Sheathing her twin short swords, Rose turned back to Edna, who had barely lifted a finger in the entire fight. "What were you saying?"

The earth seraph yawned lazily. "As I was saying, you definitely need some help. Especially since you barely try to hide your little shrine to Dezel,"

she said, bemused.

"How'd you know about that? And it's not a shrine! I'm going to give him all that stuff when he gets back!" The "shrine" in question was a collection of items Rose had prepared for Dezel's return. She had restored the rusty knife so it was clean and deadly sharp again, sheathed in a jeweled scabbard set with the precious stones she found in his pack, attached to the newly repaired satchel/traveling bag also set with the remaining stones.

" _IF_ he comes back," Edna pointed out. "So you really believe Dezel's not dead?" she asked.

Rose sighed, and spotting a chest tucked behind some nearby boulders, made her way over. "I have a feeling he's still around," she admitted, as she tried to pick the rusted lock on the chest.

Ever the pessimist, Edna couldn't help but add another jab. "It must be nice, believing in lost causes so easily."

Breaking a lockpick, Rose, growled in frustration, and smashed lock with her knife, sighing; the chest was empty. "I truly hope he's alive, but I can't know for sure," she laughed humorlessly. "Pretty sad for a lost cause, huh?" hair hid her face, as her gaze turned downward.

Edna sighed as well, and knelt awkwardly next to Rose. "I know a sadder cause. I happened to be related to it."

Rose shot her a look. "Hey. Sorey said he'd find a way to save your brother," she placed a hand on her shoulder. "And we will. I know it."

Edna looked up in surprise, then looked down at her hands. "I see why he fell for you," she muttered to herself. "So you really love him huh?" she asked aloud suddenly.

Rose blushed a little and smiled ruefully. She tried not to show her shock at how out of character Edna was being. "I think so. He's always been there for me, even when I didn't realize it." She stood, "Come on Shorty, we should be going back," and with that she walked back to the ruins.

Edna glanced after her and muttered to herself, "If you're out there Dezel, you'd better hurry back. She's strong, but it'll kill her if you don't soon." She stood and hurried after Rose. "Wait! You big loser!"

###

Author's note: Hey guys, think of this as my apology cookie for taking so long to update the previous chapter. Happy early birthday! XD Don't forget to hit those fav/follow buttons, and don't ever be afraid to review or pm me. Who knows? I might even put up a poll for Rose vs. Aris XD jk we all know who wins, but tell me what you think. Thanks! -FonicEdge21


	6. Chapter 6

Eternal Winds

Warning: Contains mid-game spoilers.

*I don't own Tales of Zestiria or any of it's characters.

Author's Note: Hey guys. This absolutely HAD to be posted. As soon as my beta saw it, he told me it had to make it here ASAP, so here ya go. As always, don't forget to hit those fav/follow buttons and don't be afraid to review or pm me. Thanks. -FonicEdge21

Aris Orlin was an interesting character to say the least. Dezel was amazed at how much energy she put solely into talking. She had spent the entire trip to Westronbolt Gorge talking about it's history and legendary origins.

"You see, the humans believe that the Gorge was carved by a single wind seraph-if they don't believe in something less realistic, like science" she snorted, chatting as they made their way to the narrow paths of the Gorge. "But actually, it was a group of ultra-powerful ones, which included my great-great-great-grand uncle; Bara Orlin," she said proudly.

"I don't suppose your 'ultra-powerful' seraphs are still around to help us with this hellion," he jabbed."

She seemed to take the joke seriously for a second. "Oh no. They've been gone for a few hundred years now." Then she realized the joke, chuckling. "No we shouldn't be so lucky as to have their help with this one."

The path they were on subtly began to get narrower, forcing them closer together. Suddenly Aris stopped in the middle of the path.

For once, Aris was suddenly serious. "This hellion's no joke. I'm surprised Mistress Sylph gave you this as your first assignment." Then her usual personality reasserted itself. "But don't worry. We'll have that hellion bruised black and blue before it even knows what happened," she said while winking.

Dezel took another glance at Aris. She resembled Rose so much. The posture, the confidence, even her jokes were similar, yet was a totally different person.

"Any particular reason you're staring at me, huh?" she asked without stopping to look back. "Not that I really mind it."

"Uh, no… I-I mean," he stuttered. He'd never been this tongue-tied before. "You remind me of someone I know," Dezel admitted.

She seemed disappointed with his answer, but still smiled and said, must be a pretty special gal then." Then she whispered quietly to herself, "I see… Was this over, before it ever began?" Shaking her head, Aris gestured to Dezel, "Look, the malevolence is condensing here. We must be close."

Dezel saw what she meant. To an untrained eye, the dark wisps could have passed for storm clouds from afar, but he knew better. The malevolence that hung in the air was gut-wrenching. Getting any closer, the nausea would only get worse.

Approaching the easternmost ridge, both Dezel and Aris were hit with a sudden wave of dread, a telltale of the presence of a powerful hellion.

The ridge ended in a bowl-shaped ledge, the ends spilling into thin clouds that blocked the views below. Fairly large, Dezel had the feeling it was almost set like a natural stage, which didn't bode well of what was to come.

Coming to a stop in the middle of the ledge, Dezel glanced at Aris. She hadn't drawn her long dagger yet, but he could feel the way she radiated tense energy. "Get ready," she warned quietly. "This hellion's part chameleon, a bloody pain in the neck unless you can read the wind well."

Intentionally or not, it served to knock Dezel's confidence. His wind-reading had been lacking, compared to before he gained his sight again.

Still, he forced himself to focus, closing his eyes. Listening to the natural whispering winds, painting a mental picture against a backdrop of blackness, he was able get a read of the area. Using the wind as an extension of his body, Dezel found Aris, his wind swirling around her.

"Hey, watch where your winds end up, alright?" she warned Dezel, albeit playfully. "I can't guarantee my winds will content themselves to just looking."

Dezel nearly jumped when he felt a wind not his own nip at him, serpent-like. The slight pain wasn't what surprised him, what surprised him was how keen Aris' wind-reading was. Never had anyone been able to detect his reading winds.

Having gotten the warning, Dezel directed his winds to search the general area for the hellion. Though limited to a 20-foot range, he was confident he'd be able to sense the malevolent creature in enough time to dodge any attack.

If only that were true.

Dezel had felt something scuttling around the edge of the cliff, and was about to shout a warning, when he was hit with a strong blow to the chest. The sheer force of the blow knocked him back to the narrow pathway leading to the bluff.

Groaning, he realized just how difficult his first assignment was going to be.

He was already on his feet and running back to Aris, when the air in front of him seemed to shimmer, like an oil film on water. Dezel only had an instant to process this, as the shimmer seemed to condense, till he realized it was an scythe-like insectoid leg swinging for his neck.

Reflexes took over, and Dezel slid and back-stepped out of the way… right into a charging Aris.

"Watch it!" She narrowly avoided impaling him. By then, the hellion had already cloaked itself again. "Get it together Dezel," she said, eyes scanning and winds searching.

Dezel caught his breath, and once again strained to sense the hellion.

From what he could piece together, the hellion seemed to be a silver-skinned centipede-type hellion, his least favorite kind, especially in this environment. The many notches on the cliff and all over the neighboring pathways gave the centipede unrivaled movement across. _Even under_ , Dezel realized too late, as Aris have a cry of alarm.

Reacting on blind instinct and relying on exceptional spatial awareness, Dezel caught a flailing Aris with one hand, and gripped a hold on the edge of their cliff before they fell.

"It's got me! Mandibles around my ankles!" She yelled above the sudden gust of wind.

Dezel nodded, but was in no shape to respond in any other form. White-faced with effort, he was struggling to lift himself and Aris back to safety.

But the hellion's jaws were still clamped around Aris' riding boots, causing her to wince in pain, as well as adding it's considerable bulk to Dezel's struggle.

Suddenly an idea hit Dezel. "Don't freak out! I'm gonna let go of the ledge, alright?" the wind was drowning out most of his words, so all his panicking partner heard was; "Don't...out!...gonna let go...ledge!"

Before she could voice a protest, or even start screaming, Dezel released his hold on the ledge, plunging both of them, along with the hellion, into the howl of the wind.

As he expected, the hellion shrieked and disengaged from the pair, launching itself to latch onto a nearby cliff face, saving it's own skin.

But it had inadvertently saved Dezel and Aris as well. In the brief free-fall, Dezel had wound a spirit pendulum around it's plated neck. So as it lugged it's own bulk up the cliff, the hellion also carried the two as well.

Dezel had hoisted Aris up into his arms as they fell, but only now realized the close proximity, and the strange stare Aris was giving him. "What?"

Her cheeks flushed. "Nothing," she looked down, embarrassed. "That thing better not drop us. If it does, I'm blaming you," she said with a half-hearted scowl, "Great view though."

Dezel was still trying to decipher the strange look she had been giving him, when he realized the view she was talking about.

They had fallen a quarter of the way from the top of the highest cliff in the Gorge. Yet, hanging from the climbing hellion, Dezel and Aris were greeted with a spectacular view of the wind-carved walls of Westronbolt Gorge. Abstract shapes of stone, weathered over the years by an unrelenting force(fus ro da XD), caught against a blood-red sunset painted a picture that Dezel found words could not properly capture.

"It's beautiful," Dezel heard Aris sigh dreamily. Then she caught his puzzled look. "Stay focused. I doubt that thing will just let us climb up when it reaches the top," she said with a serious face again.

Dezel surprised her with a wicked grin. "I've got a plan for that too," he chuckled.

But the chuckle died when he saw something flash down in the Gorge. A familiar red mane of hair. "Rose!"


	7. Chapter 7

Eternal Winds

Warning: Contains mid-game spoilers.

*I don't own Tales of Zestiria or any of it's characters.

###

Rose was not a person to write off people or places based on appearances or reputations, she'd been in the field as an assassin too long to trust in what things simply appeared.

But the Westronbolt Gorge seemed as advertised: bleak, grey, and filled with that spirits-awful windy din; just loud enough to annoy anyone who wasn't deaf, but just low enough so one didn't feel like complaining. Though, folklore had it, that the entire Gorge had been carved by a wind-seraph, so Rose figured they were in good company.

' _Unless the seraph's still around and conveniently turned into a ridiculously powerful hellion,'_ she thought, glaring at the sheer cliffs around her and daring their luck to get worse. No hellion appeared, but just before she could duck back into the ruins, Rose could have sworn there was a faint hint of the metallic taste of malevolence in the air. Probably carried by the wind, and too far to deal with.

Shrugging, Rose stepped into the sudden gloom of the ruins. In the split-second she stopped to adjust to the low-light, Rose heard the click of a lever being pulled, and a slight rumble underfoot. Lashing out on reflex, she threw herself blindly towards the sound, knocking something down with her knee to it's throat and a gleaming short sword hovering above it's face.

"H-Hey! Don't stab! It's me! Mikleo!" the flushed seraph cried out, squirming under the pinning force of her knee.

"Damnit, Mikleo!" she released him and stood up, sheathing her sword. "I almost stabbed you in the face!"

"S-Sorry! I thought you were Edna. The trap was meant for her," he stuttered, looking a little pale from the close shave.

"Trap?" Rose then noticed the bronze piping crisscrossing the ceiling, ending in what looked like an upside-down bowl with holes bored into it, suspended above the entrance to the ruins. "Well, have fun with… whatever you're doing." She started to walk away.

"You're not even curious to know what it does?" Mikleo sputtered. ' _And you're not mad that I almost hit you with it?'_ he thought, totally unnerved.

"Nah. I have a pretty good guess it involves payback for last week's "incident" with Edna," she gave him a sidelong glance and grinned. "Am I right?"

"I… U-Uh… That's right," Mikleo admitted, walking over to a recess in the wall. He reset a complicated apparatus attached to a hidden tank that obviously had been hastily set up in place of something long-gone now. "It's a shame. The trap used to be set to spray burning oil," his eyes glinted with a maniac light.

"But you're not dropping oil on Edna, are you?!" The earth-seraph wasn't her favorite person in the world, but this seemed a little too much.

She was relieved to see the horror on Mikleo's face, as hastily, "No! Spirits no!" He patted the improvised tank, "This is just cold water. Looters raided the original tank." Satisfied that everything was in place, he turned back to Rose, who had already made her way to the next chamber door.

"Well, good luck with that." She waved and grinned. "Edna was a little ways behind me, so she should be here soon." But Rose didn't mention that she had noticed something else. The ancient trap, worn as it already was, had felt the effects of the misfire badly. A breach in the piping, a huge bronze gash had ruptured-right above Mikleo.

Last week's "incident"had been another of Edna's ruthless pranks. While everyone was sound asleep, the earth-seraph had managed to dig a trench around Mikleo's bed, who didn't stir in spite of his justified insomnia, and filled it with water. So, when poor Meebo jumped at the jarring crash of pans, he fell face-first in the muddy water, earning laughs from everyone and even a small chuckle from Sorey.

It seemed like he would get drenched again. Though water-seraphs could will themselves dry, an extremely flustered or weakened one can't focus to shed even a drop of water, as Mikleo found out last week.

Rose had just pushed open the rusty ruin door, when she heard the _click!_ of the lever, and a sudden cry from a now sodden water-seraph. She chuckled to herself. Edna may not be her favorite person, ' _But hey, us girls gotta stick together,'_ she thought.

She strode into a large chamber, larger than most of the other rooms of the ruins. Wide-spaced, several well-built columns held up the just-visible stone ceiling, giving the feeling of a grand space.

The sheer size of the room wasn't the only interesting feature of the room. Etched and dyed across the chamber's walls, were five gigantic murals, encompassing the five walls of the curious room.

Sorey and Lailah stood by the farthest wall, the fire-seraph bathing the wall with rosy-red flames hovering above their heads. Zaveid stood at another wall, blowing winds across the shining oil of the mural.

Sorey had accidently discovered the odd quality of the paint. During a brief battle with the chamber's hellion inhabitants, Sorey had Armatized with Lailah, swinging a giant broadsword wreathed in scarlet flames. Aiming for a particularly quick centipede-hellion, Sorey and Lailah accidently set the nearby wall ablaze with the flying sparks.

Instead of scorching the the wall and burning out shortly after the battle, a curious image had shimmered for a few moments, before settling back into the geometric pattern of the wall. After some experimenting and only a few blazing sets of clothes later, Sorey had determined that four of the five walls reacted with a certain element.

As Lailah willed the flames to roll across the face of the wall, the image from before burned clear. A vast map stretched across the oil mural, the corners of the world wreathed in a corona of white-fiery glory.

Two pinpoints of blood-red light marked seemingly random positions, flickering and winking in slow paths across the map. Two fierce-looking figures were also drawn in the curious oil-paint; a male and a female, both looked deadly and quite intimidating.

"I wouldn't want to mess with them, that's for sure," Rose said, sidling up to the two.

Lailah smiled in greeting but turned back to maintaining the fire. Sorey was still in ruin-fever mode, and only nodded to acknowledge her presence, all while muttering to himself with his nose buried in a worn book. "...half of the Celestial Record Codex?... No, maybe a whole language derived from the Gorge itself…"

Rose was about what Sorey was talking about, when Zaveid gave a sudden shout. "Hey! You guys might wanna see this!"

They ran over to Zaveid's wall, Lailah abandoning the sputtering flames, and Sorey reluctantly closed his book.

The wind-seraph's wall had the same oil mural as all the other walls. When the winds rolled the paint like waves, the huge map appeared, but only one point of green light blazed also on the Westronbolt Gorge. But now a second light flickered, side-by-side with the first.

As Rose watched, a new figure was being drawn, seemingly by invisible hands. Along with the dark-green haired female, a tall figure with light-green hair covering his eyes became etched into the stone, a very familiar figure… "Dezel!"

Before any of the shocked four could even form words, an earth-shaking quake rocked the chamber, throwing them off their feet. As suddenly as it came, the earthquake faded.

Sorey recovered first, darting around the room to make sure the columns and walls were still intact. Sighing with relief, he called back to the shaken group, "Phew! The structure is still standing! And the murals are intact." He ran back to the others, wondering why the silence stretched on. "I couldn't imagine what would have happened, if the walls were any less sturdy…"

Then he saw what they were staring at. The fifth wall, the only one that had not been lit up by torchlight, was now awash in eerie grey flames. A huge jagged crack cleaved the wall in two, an ugly scar of blackness sucking away the flames, and whatever had been on the mural…

###

On a lonely bluff shrouded in mists, two figures stood in the rapidly fading light. A shock wave rolled over them, sounding like an earthen groan.

The taller of the two shifted uncomfortably, as if the force was an invisible blow. "You felt that too." It wasn't a question, merely a confirmation of dreaded suspicions.

The other, the female nodded and gazed skywards, her face shrouded in the deep shadow of her cowl. "The Fifth has broken the seal, Rem has fallen." From her deep blue cloak, she produced a metal wafer the size of her open palm. Six pulsating lights glowed in a circle of color: red, green, brown, blue, white, and black.

Slowly, the white light flickered and twinkled one last time, and winked out.

With it, winked out the hope of the world.

###

Author's Note: Hey guys! I apologize if the update seemed a little long-in-waiting, but I was working hard on this story, plus a my new Golden Sun story; Dawn of a Harem. I would really appreciate if you guys could give it read, a new update should follow this one shortly. I'm sorry about the last update's cliffhanger, but, surprise! There's a cliffhanger within a cliffhanger(ception) mwahahaha! Don't worry guys you'll find out just what this means for the story soon! Remember, don't forget to hit those fav/follow buttons, and don't be afraid to review or pm me! Thanks! -FonicEdge21


	8. Chapter 8

Eternal Winds

Warning: Contains mid-game spoilers.

*I don't own Tales of Zestiria or any of it's characters.

###

Dezel figured that if some great primordial force assigned a certain amount of luck to everyone in the world, it was not doing him any favors. If life had the opportunity to mess with his plans or expectations, it usually would. He had definitely drawn the short straw.

After realizing it was carrying them along with it's scaly bulk up the grey cliff face, the hellion began to swing and twist madly. Determined to dislodge Dezel and Aris, it jerked back and forth in an effort to loosen the taut line of spirit pendulum that wrapped around it's neck-the length of ethereal line that Dezel was painfully aware of fraying.

Dezel had been expecting the hellion's resistance. It'd be foolishly naive not to, yet his previous plan to use the reckless swings to save their skins was dashed to pieces as a wave of earthen fury rocked the Gorge.

The thundering of the sudden earthquake almost drowned out the equally deafening crash of sheets of stone tumbling into the yawning maw of the chasm below. Yet their cliff held firm, for the time being.

The ground stilled. Just as he was about thank his lucky stars, Dezel heard a sickening sound. The crunch and snap of rock cleaving caused him to look up in time to see cracks etching their way across the sheet of rock the hellion had taken shelter from the tumbling rocks on.

Aris felt Dezel tense. "What? What's the m-" Then she followed his horrified gaze, just as the last vestiges of solid cliff sheared off, plummeting them and the hellion once again.

But Dezel had been ready.

With the wind whistling in one ear and Aris' panicked yell in the other, Dezel struggled concentrate and put a hasty plan into action. Commanding the unruly winds of the Gorge was no easy task in the agitated state they were in. But with a defiant yell, he forced the feisty gales of wind to bend to his will.

Suddenly, a surge of air like a solid cushion stopped their fall, gently depositing a few chunks of cliff, two disoriented wind seraphs, and an outraged hellion on a conveniently close ledge.

But the impressive display of improvisation had taken it's toll. Dezel was exhausted, arms and legs threatening to lock from fatigue. Nevertheless, he jumped to his feet. The battle was far from over.

The hellion recovered with unnerving speed, leaping at Dezel and a still-dazed Aris.

Dezel's finely-tuned instincts took over. Aris was in no condition to fight at the moment, so he would have to move the fight to a more ideal place. He rolled back and sent the pouncing hellion flying toward the ledge and away from his partner with swift kick to the hellion's belly plates.

With Aris out of danger, the fight began in earnest. Dezel dodged, rolled, slashed, and jumped in a savage whirlwind. The hellion was fast, but each of it's attempts to eviscerate Dezel was beat back with a merciless pendulum strike under it's lowered guard.

Dezel had started to believe the fight was beginning to swing in his favor, when the unthinkable happened! His signature bad luck struck again when he jumped back to avoid a swiping razor-sharp claw… only to have the world spin as he slipped on a piece of gravel.

As he fell to the ground, he found his arms and legs pinned under enormously strong pincers. The hellion's rank breath burned his eyes as it reared a bladed claw for a finishing blow with a piercing screech of grim triumph.

Just as Dezel thought it was all over, something strange happened. A horrible tearing sound rang out. Both Dezel and the hellion looked down in surprise to see a silver blade protruding from a gash in it's chest plates. "Who saw that coming?"

Aris Orlin pulled her long dirk back as the surprised hellion sank to the ground inches away from Dezel. She cleaned the hellion slime off the blade and sheathed it, offering Dezel a hand up along with a sideways smile. "It looked like you could use a hand," her smile widened. "And a knife."

He took the hand up, a little shaken from the close shave. "I wouldn't've, had my 'partner' recovered a little faster from her little spill," he muttered. Yet he grinned. "Not bad for a first-timer, huh?"

She scoffed. "Easy there big guy. The thought's nice, but let's not make it a habit of getting into these last-minute saves." She glanced back with a playful light in her eye. "You live a lot longer that way."

She had a point. "Fair enough. But for the record, I saved you not just first, but twice."

"I had a feeling I would regret saving you," she sighed. But edges of her mouth twitched as she resisted the urge to smile. "Not bad at all, partner. But don't get cocky." She punched him lightly on the shoulder. "Hellions should never be underestimated."

She pushed the body of the hellion off the cliff with a booted kick. A lightning bolt similar to the arte Sylph had used, only slightly smaller, crashed silently into the chasm below, vaporizing the grisly hellion remains into a rainbow of colors. At Dezel's bewildered look, she laughed and explained. "Our lightning has purifying power, similar to the Shepherd's, but it's got much more flair, don'tcha think?"

"Whatever." He turned to search for a path to return to the higher levels of the Gorge.

They walked on in silence.

The sun seemed much more comforting and warm with the malevolence purified from the already bleak place. Dezel didn't notice, his mind was occupied with half-hopeful thoughts and nostalgic memories triggered from his split-second sighting of Rose.

Aris noticed his troubled mood. "So," she started slowly. "You recognise someone back there?"

Dezel jarred from his thoughts. The warm emotion he was becoming quickly familiar with seemed to blaze his insides, leaving his mind clouded like a heat haze.

Aris snapped her fingers in his face to reel him back into reality. "Hey? You okay?" She asked concernedly. "You spaced out there for a minute." She chuckled but didn't lose the slightly worried frown.

"I'm fine," he said dismissively. "I saw… an old friend," he explained slowly. "I spotted them from the cliff we were hanging on."

"So you stop whatever you're doing and gawk?" Aris snorted. "When I see an old friend, my first thoughts are 'duck and hide!'"

Dezel sweatdropped. "You should lose those friends."

The wind-swept path seemed longer than Dezel remembered. The sun had slowly started sinking below the high stone walls of Westron Bolt, when they reached an intersection of stone paths. Dezel rounded the wall-like corner… right into a chatting Rose.

Instead of painfully colliding with her, Dezel's immaterial form simply passed through Rose. But out of habit, Dezel swerved to avoid her, falling quite comically hard on his behind for the second time in the day.

Aris was trying desperately not to laugh. "I don't think I've ever seen such a brilliant display of, uh… What's the word? Chivalrous clumsiness?" She covered her growing smile by clapping slowly.

Dezel was too busy quashing the impulse to call out to Rose again to let his annoyance show. At Aris' puzzled look he gestures half-heartedly and explained. "Aris, these are my…" He struggled to find the right word, finally deciding on "friends."

He got up and went about making one-sided introductions. "That's Sorey, Lailah, and Zaveid. The water-seraph's Mikleo and the one poking him with umbrella is Edna." His voice almost caught when he came to the last companion. "And this is Rose."

She continued to talk as if she hadn't noticed them (of course she couldn't.) "... what was up with the earthquake and weird flames and stuff?" 'Not to mention the picture that looked an awful lot like Dezel,' she thought, oblivious as Aris stood in front of her for a closer look.

"Not a bad-lookin' bunch," she mused.

Dezel didn't respond. He was too busy taking Rose's face, smiling and radiant as Edna and Mikleo's antics brought rounds of laughter to the group. 'Spirits, that smile… had she always smiled like that?' He'd seen her smile probably a million times before, but he'd never noticed the beauty and honest charm that had been right in front of him all those years. Revenge had always taken priority, but now Dezel was at a loss on how to deal with the full force of suppressed emotion, a combination of long-time regard and a tangle of newer feelings.

By now Dezel had an idea to what these emotions entailed, though not how he had acquired them, or why just the thought of Rose caused the sudden flare of them. He thought back to something Lafarga had said back in Pendrago. 'Hell, it's practically under your nose…"

"But seriously," Rose rephrased her question. "Obviously the earthquake and flames and weird pictures are connected. The question is how?"

"Not to mention the bigger question of why?" Sorey nodded in agreement. "Lailah, do you anything about the chamber? Or the ruins in general?"

The Prime Lord looked genuinely perplexed. "I recall the ruins being there as long as I remember, but…" Her brow furrowed. "I've never set foot in them before in all my journeys with the Shepherd."

Aris' ears perked up. "Did you say her name was Lailah?" She looked over the fire-seraph once more.

Dezel nodded.

"As in, 'Lady of the Lake' Lailah? The 'Seraph of the Sacred Blade'? THAT Lailah?!" she nearly squealed.

Dezel wasn't sure of just what was happening in front of him. He nodded slowly again. "Why? You know her or something?"

But Aris had started talking to herself, a strange light in her eyes as she reexamined the group. "But that means he's the… and you all are… and you're fighting…"

Dezel sighed wearily. "Yes he's Shepherd, and we're his entourage. Is that such a big deal?"

She snapped her head back to him. "Big deal?! It is a tremendous honor just meet the Shepherd of the Age. And you get to travel and fight beside him and Lady Lailah?!" Her eyes filled with awe. "You must be the luckiest seraph alive-erm… you know… in existence?"

Dezel chuckled mirthlessly. "I don't think so. Now, do you have any idea what they're talking about? Aris?"

She had been looking at Rose, and the way the edges of Dezel's mouth would lift ever-so slightly, bending into an almost visible smile at the sight of the young woman.

"That was quite a quake," she recalled absently, still trying to discern the relationship between Dezel and the grinning beauty in front of her. Then she recalled what had been said before, and a dreadful thought struck her. "Pictures and Flames… Spirits! That can't be!" She broke into a sprint down the path Sorey and the others had just come from.

"Aris! What's wrong?" Dezel called after her and ran to catch up.

###

Excitement was an emotion Rose was quite familiar with, as well as dread.

But never had she felt them mixed together before. Now, the two blended into a bittersweet impulse to either give into the hope that a certain wind seraph was still around, or break down in tears of painful grief at the possibility that her friend was truly gone.

But Rose was also a seasoned businesswoman at heart, and quashed both impulses and maintained her carefree smile as the party checked into the Pendrago Inn.

After the strange afternoon, the group had unanimously voted to rest and regroup back at the inn.

Rose sighed and pushed open the door to her room.

With the party's frequent stops at the fine establishment, the innkeeper (another seasoned businessman) had seen fit to build and reserve private rooms for the Shepherd and his companions.

Rose closed the finely-carved oaken door and threw herself on the voluminous bed, grateful that the wisely-spent gald and friendly talks with the innkeeper over Drago stew had finally paid off, the lining of her sleeping bag had started to feel harder than the rocky ground the party had often been forced to sleep on.

As much as her body yearned for rest, her mind refused to shut down. A vortex of hopeful "what-if's" swirled around in her mind. Maybe his wounds were not so grievous, maybe the stubborn seraph held on with sheer will to keep him alive. Maybe…

Rose shook her head. With every thought, reality seemed to suck the warmth from the small spark of hope she had struggled to shelter in the back of her mind. Yet it still burned faintly, giving Rose new faith in her feeling that everything would work out.

'Maybe Lailah knows more than she let on. It wouldn't be the first time. Maybe…' her thoughts broke with a sudden yawn. 'I'll ask her in the morning,' she decided and rubbed an eye sleepily.

She blew out the lone candle lighting up the room and buried herself in the cool silk sheets of the bed. Spirits, she needed sleep.

And Rose closed her eyes, the image of Dezel on the mural still emblazoned in her mind.

###

Author's Note: Hey guys! I'm not dead! Unfortunately the same can't be said for my computer. The reason this update took awhile is because my poor Gateway Laptop decided it was time to quit and so all my writing, back-ups, and back-up back-ups were all deleted. In fact I'm typing this on a borrowed laptop so please don't give up on the story. I promise to update more frequently. Remember to hit those fav/follow buttons and leave a review if you want or pm me. Thanks!

-FonicEdge21


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